


Go Fish

by SecretGeniusShittyKnight (augopher)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Drunken card games, Established Lardo/Shitty, Eventual Polyfi-Quad relationship, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Getting Together, It's Complicated Holster/Ransom, Multi, Power Outage, Pre-Year 3, Strip Go Fish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher/pseuds/SecretGeniusShittyKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do a visit to see Lardo before the school year starts, a fridge full of booze, a power outage, and a deck of cards have in common?</p>
<p>Drunken shenanigans and a game of strip go-fish...what comes next is anyone's guess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Fish

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even know what happened here or how I arrived at shipping these four, but here were are. I give you Shitty/Lardo/Ransom/Holster who are not my creation but come from Ngozi Ukazu's wonderful comic [Check, Please! ](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com)  

 

Shitty opened the door to the Haus, weekend duffle bag in one hand and Samwell Megaphone in the other. “Shitty Knight is in the house! Time to get this party started!”

He waited for the sound of many pairs of feet to come bounding down the stairs, but none came. “I said…’It’s your favorite alumnus! Come check out my sweet new flow!”

Well huh. Where was everyone? He knew it was still a month before classes started, but by now, several people had always returned to the Haus to get reacquainted with its unique “problems.” Like the temperamental shower faucet upstairs that seemed to enjoy forgetting what cold water was on occasion. Nothing like a scalding shower first thing in the morning to get your blood pumping.

He waltzed into the kitchen. That’s right. He waltzed. Why? Well, if no one was around to see him, than he was sure as hell going to be as goofy as he fucking felt like.

The fridge was pretty sparse on the food front, but at least there was beer. So he had that going for him. He found the churchkey and popped the top, savoring the first drink. “Ah. Nector of the gods.”

“Those are some slick dance moves you got there, Shits.”

He turned around to find Lardo standing just inside the kitchen, holding a sack from the art supply store. Hurrying over, he scooped her up in a hug, spinning her around in his arms. “What can I say, Lardo? I’ve been working on my ‘social graces’ as Grandma Knight likes to call them. I fucking missed you, bro,” he said, fondness set in his features as he set her back down on the linoleum before cupping her chin and kissing her senseless.

Lardo made a noise of surprise, not of protest, taking a moment before kissing him back.

He picked her up and set her on the countertop, slotting himself between her legs. “Harvard might not be that far, but damn. It’s been too long since I’ve done that.”

She gave him a smirk. “Looks like you’ll just need to come visit me more often.”

“You’re telling me. Say, Lards…anyone else ho-” His words were cut of by a deafening clap of thunder.

“Damn it! Hold on,” she said, hopping off the counter. I gotta go put buckets up in the attic.” She opened the closet just off the downstairs bathroom, grabbed a stack of pails, and raced up the stairs.

“Don’t tell me the attic still leaks!”

“Worse than it did before. If I don’t hurry, Ransom and Holster’s beds are gonna be toast. They’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep!”

Shitty climbed the stairs after her. “You act like that’s a bad thing!”

Reemerging from the attic a few moments later with a smirk. “You’re shameless, Shitty. You know that?”

He gave her a nonchalant shrug. “I am what I am.”

“Popeye,” she said, walking past him and back downstairs. She had just entered the kitchen when the front door opened and in came Ransom and Holster, soaked like drowned rats.

Holster’s hair, weighed down with rain water, lay plastered to his forehead. His bangs partially obscured his glasses. He took one look at the grin on Shitty’s face and held up an admonishing finger. “Don’t say a word, Shits. Not one word.” He juggled the two grocery sacks in his arms, well, what remained of said paper bags. The bottoms had fallen out due to the rain, and the fixings for pasta sat precariously in his arms.

Ransom, on the other hand, had a case of Molson clutched to his chest like it was precious. Shitty could see his lips moving, but struggled to decipher anything he was saying.

Holster, on the other hand turned to his roommate (boyfriend? Sometime hookup? Honestly, Shitty had no idea what to call the pair of them anymore) and rolled his eyes. “Dude, are you talking to the beer?”

“So what if I am? Beer needs reassurance too.”

Holster pinched the bridge of his nose. “The school year hasn’t even started yet. You usually don’t start talking to your beer until you’ve been awake for 48 hours straight with your nose buried in a textbook.”

“I do not do that!”

“Yeah, you do.” Lardo nodded. “I’ve just accepted it as one of your quirks by now. Just like I’ve accepted Shitty’s stoned philosopher tendencies. Part of your charm, Rans,” she patted his cheek and grabbed the dinner ingredients from Holster. “Thanks.”

No sooner had she turned on the stove, the lights flickered and went out. She stared down and still cold coils of metal. “Well, that blows. Sorry, guys. Looks like we’re gonna be drinking our dinner.” She quickly had the perishable food stashed in the fridge and all the booze within on the counter. “No one opens this unless necessary.”

“So,” Holster stared at his phone screen, “power company says…anyone want to guess?”

Shitty held up his beer. “Downed power line?”

“Nope. Guess again.”

“Fried grid?”

“Sorry, Lardo but n-”

“Not another blown transformer.”

“Ding, ding, ding.”

“What do I win?” Ransom asked.

Holster leaned over  and placed a loud, smacking kiss on Ransom’s cheek. “There you go. One highly coveted, Adam Birkholtz kiss.”

“Aww, Holster. I’m jealous.”

He picked up Lardo in a hug and gave her the same treatment. “Can’t have our team manager feeling left out.”

She turned to Shitty and smirked. “Should have said transformer.”

Instead of saying anything, Shitty grabbed Holster’s face and kissed him square on the mouth, far less chaste than the one given to Ransom. “And there you go, my giant, bespectacled friend. A kiss courtesy of yours truly, the one, the only, Bainbridge Knight. Better known as Shitty.”

Ransom choked on his beer. “Your name is Bainbridge? Really?”

“I know. It’s the worst, and you know it’s bad, when I prefer to go by Shitty instead of my given name.”

Holster had a dark flush spreading across his cheeks.

“Aww look at him, Shits.” Lardo poked him in the ribs. “You made him blush.”

“That’s because I used tongue.” He clapped Holster on the back. “Come on now, gentleman. Time to commandeer the candles that I know Bitty has stashed in his room. Then, to the living room,” he said in a voice much like an intrepid explorer, “where we shall play cards and get smashed. Not necessarily in that order.”

 

***

 

The living room had been lit up with more candles than was probably safe, and the quartet sat around the coffee table, five cards in each hand. Several empty beer cans littered the floor, and a half empty bottle of vodka held the place of honor in the middle of the table. Next to the Smirnov, a shot glass that looked like a miniature red Solo cup waited to be filled again.

Holster’s cheeks were flushed once more, but this time it was not from blushing, and Ransom was at least buzzed or on his way to it. All of them, however, sat in various states of undress.

“Ransom, you handsome devil,” Shitty said, “got any threes?”

“Naw, go fish, man. And drink up.” He passed the shot glass, half full across the table.

Shitty knocked back the liquid, wincing at the burn. Next to him, Lardo turned to her boyfriend. “Shits, got any threes?” she asked with a smirk.

“Aww, Lardo. You’re gonna take my threes?”

She held out her hand. “Hand ‘em over, Bainbridge.”

He clutched his cards to his chest with feigned insult. “Using my shit-tacular first name? Total violation of the Haus code.” Yet, he passed over the cards anyway.

“Oh, what do we have here? Three three’s?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. He tugged the t-shirt off over his head and threw it somewhere behind him away from the candles.

“Rockin’ the chest carpet I see.” Holster shuffled his cards.

Shitty puffed out his chest. “Yeah. Started growing in thicker back in June. S’awesome, yeah?”

“I…cannot grow chest hair.”

“With that playoff beard? I am shocked, Holster. Shocked.”

He sighed at her. “I know.. It’s tragic. Anyway, Rans, my love-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Yes, I do, and Go Fish.”

Holster took a deep breath. “Got any sevens.”

“I said-” Ransom looked down at his cards. “Touché.” He handed over the three sevens in his hand and stood to strip off his shorts, leaving him in only his underwear, which earned a wolf whistle from Lardo.

“Looking good.” She, herself, sat in her tank top and jeans still, and remained the most clothed.

“Thanks.” He grinned at her, obviously proud. “I’ve been working out extra this summer.”

“Shows, bro. Not gonna lie, I want to lick those abs.”

“Me too,” Shitty cackled beside her. “Oh my God. I just got like, the worst case of déjà vu, brah. This is just like that time one of those lacrosse douchebro’s caused the campus wide blackout, and we played strip Twister.”

Holster scratched his chin. “I seem to remember there being a lot more making out that night though.”

Shitty leaned back against the couch, folding his arms behind his head. “Yeah. That night was awesome.”

“I know nothing about this.” Lardo chucked her empty beer can into the pile.

“I’m sure I told you about this before.”

“Nope.”

“Ah, well any time the power goes out in the house, it always seems to be Holster, Rans and me here, and it always seems to lead to drunken games of the strip variety. But no board games, thank you very much, Holster.”

“That was one game of Catan! One!”

“Yes, we know.”

“Don’t forget the making out,” Ransom added.

“Yes, and making out.”

“Lardo, got any tens?”

“Looks like someone’s going fishing.”

Ransom poured himself half a shot and gulped it down.

“So,” Shitty hiccuped, “you two,” he said, pointing across the table, “what are you now? Are you like dating or what?”

“I prefer to think of us as drift compatible. He’s the Raleigh to my Mako.” Holster threw his arm around Ransom’s shoulders.

“Why do you get to be Mako? I want to be Mako. Raleigh’s blonde. You should be Raleigh.”

Holster shrugged. “Fine. Shits, I shit you not, Ransom is the Mako to my Raleigh. Together, we pilot the Jaeger known as the D-line.”

“Love you too, Holtzy.”

Holster, sporting a healthy buzz, petted Ransom’s hair. “My beautiful, human coral reef. So pretty.”

Lardo set her cards down on the table. “Oh, just shut up and kiss already.”

When the pair hesitated (for reason’s Shitty couldn’t fathom), he sat up. “Oh for crying out loud, if you won’t Rans, I will. Holtzy there is a fantastic kisser. Believe me, I know.”

He looked over to see Lardo’s singular raised eyebrow, and he smirked. “I’m telling you, Lardo, the power went out a lot my sophomore year, and those two cats,” he gesticulated across the table, “never left the Haus, and I do mean never. They didn’t even live here, and they were always here.”

“So…Shitty, you got any Jacks?”

Shitty handed over a card and took a drink. “Rans,”

“Why me? Ask someone else.”

“Are  you gonna kiss your drift compatible D-man or not?” He took Ransom’s silence for a negative answer and leaned across the table. Only Lardo’s quick thinking saved the rest of the vodka from spilling. He got a hand in Holster’s shirt and pulled him closer, he waited a few seconds to give him a chance to back out. Instead, Holster closed the distance.

As Shitty licked along Holster’s bottom lip, he found himself quickly pulled across the table where he collided with him. The both tumbled backwards down to the floor. Given their similar state of undress–Shitty in his shorts and Holster in his t-shirt and underwear–there was little disguise the fact that both of them were, by now, sporting erections.

Lardo whooped in appreciation when Holster pushed up against him and rolled them over. Shitty didn’t put up a single ounce of effort to stop him, not that he could, and soon found himself flat on his back, his hands pinned above his hand.

“And you’re okay with this, Lardo?” Ransom croaked out. “Your boyfriend is making out with my roommate.”

“Shitty and I have an open relationship, Rans. We kiss, make-out with, or fuck whoever the hell we want. For example…last week, I totally hooked up with a girl from one of my studio classes. It was 'swawesome. Shits has a weekly thing with some woman from his property law class. Totally fine by me. I love getting the sordid details from him. We just can’t keep it a secret from each other, and it can only be sex. Not an actual relationship. But…for you two, I would definitely make an exception. ”

Shitty made a noise of protest, loud enough that Holster broke the kiss and stared down at him.

“What?”

He turned to face her. “Lards, you’re the fucking best. You know that? Totally fucking love you.”

“Right back at you. Hey, Ransom, no need to feel left out.” She winked at him.

“Do it. I’m telling you, it’s so worth it, bro,” Shitty mumbled against Holster’s mouth.

 

***

 

“Oh my God,” Shitty panted and patted Ransom on the top of the head as he lay in the middle of the living room floor. “What was that? I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that over the sound of the other two.”

Ransom picked up his head from where he’d lain it near Shitty’s hip. “I asked why the three of us only ever made it to second ba-”

He was cut off by a litany of cursing in two octaves, complete with Holster swearing on the Stanley Cup.

“Attagirl, Lardo. Dude, Holtz, she had me seeing stars after our first time.”

She rolled off Holster and flopped down next to Shitty, turning to give him a kiss. Then, she stood and headed for the stairs, turning back to the living room when she noticed she was alone. “Well bros? You coming?”

Still buzzed, Holster began to giggle. “I just did.” His laughter intensified earning a couple of confused looks from both Shitty and Ransom.

“Dude, we need to get him drunk and laid by more than one person at a time. That giant misanthrope turns into that drunk that loves everyone.”

“I’m not drunk,” Holster clarified, “drunk me gets whiskey dick.” When Ransom pushed up off Shitty, he patted Holster on the chest. “Come on, Holtzy.”

Shitty just chuckled, shaking his head as he walked up the stairs behind them. When he made it to Lardo’s room, she had the mattress on the floor and had stolen Chowders from off his bed as well…or at least he assumed it was his. On top, she’d thrown every blanket she could find, and two pillows he distinctly recognized from Holster and Ransom’s beds.

“Here we are, dudes, I am not sleeping in the middle only to die in a man sandwich.”

Shitty threw his arms around Lardo’s shoulders. “Aww, Lards. I love being the little spoon.”

The four of them got cozy and settled into a comfortable quiet for several minutes before the silence got the better of him. ‘So…hypothetical question, guys…let’s say you two got your heads out of your asses and realized, ‘Hey, we are so totally in love with each other, we should date and hold hands and yeah all that,’ and then say this totally hot, super s’awesome bro you both know–and no, it’s not Lardo–comes to you and says ‘Guys, you ever think about dating more than one person?’ What would you say then?”

“Man,” Ransom said with a yawn, “I have had too much to drink to deal with your philosophizing.”

Shitty groaned. “I was trying to be subtle. I know Lardo told you about our relationship, hers and mine, and how we date other people, sort of. You ever think about that?”

“Think about what?” Holster grumbled into his pillow.

“Dude, he’s asking you both if you want to date us…or at the very least do this again. Cause I gotta say, tonight? Fun as hell.”

“Us date you? Like me and Rans date you and Shitty? How does that even work?”

“Details, man. If you’re up for it, we’ll hash out the details over breakfast.” He chuckled, enjoying his private joke.

“What?”

“Hash, Lards. I managed to…oh never mind.”

Ransom rolled over towards him. “You sure this isn’t just you fucking with us? Cause you do that sometimes.”

“No, I’m fucking serious. And no, it’s not something I just pulled out of my ass. You’re like two of my closest bros. I love you guys, and let’s face, you two are totally in love with each other.” Even though it was almost pitch black in the room, there was enough light for him to see Ransom open his mouth to protest, and  he scoffed, “Don’t deny it. You probably have Mr. Justin Oluransi-Birkholtz scribbled in your diary somewhere.”

“I don’t have a diary.”

“No, he has a ‘log’. No joke.”

“Shut up, Holtzy.”

Holster reached over Ransom’s shoulders to give Shitty a playful shove in the shoulder. “Sounds like it could be-”

“'swawesome? Yeah, I know it does. Think of it. So much brains, and beauty in our quartet. People would be so fucking jealous. We could totally change the socially accepted norms for romantic relationships.”

“Or enact world domination,” Lardo said, not missing a beat.

“I like that plan so much better.”

“And that, Holster, is why you are one of my favorite people.” She sat up enough to to see him over both Shitty and Ransom.

“I am? Aww, I’m touched.”

The room grew quiet once more, the storm, long since subsiding to give way for a gentle rain. As the silence stretched on, Shitty started to regret bringing up anything. Whatever, he’d kick himself in the morning. Maybe if he was lucky, both Holster and ransom would forget he said anything by morning. He rolled onto his side, soon finding Lardo’s arm wrapped around his waist and smiled. As he slowly drifted off to sleep, eyes closed and breath almost even, Ransom broke the silence.

“This is…nice.”

“What is?”

“It’s cozier sleeping in a bed with someone else. I like it. The way I see it, if sharing the bed with someone else is nice, then sharing an even bigger bed with three someones must be great. Plus, I mean, there’s no one better to have in my corner than you three. Well, I mean…you know what I mean. Don’t tell Cap I said that; he’ll tell Bitty not to make us anymore pies.”

“You know Bits won’t listen though..” Holster’s yawn seemed so loud in the otherwise quiet room. “So, at breakfast we work out the details on this…thing?”

“Yes. Now go to sleep,” Lardo grumbled, and Shitty had honestly thought she’d fallen asleep.

“Good night, you wonderful people.” He lifted Lardo’s arm from around his waist and kissed her hand. Then, he kissed Ransom’s forehead twice. “One of those is for Holster.”

 

***

 

The next morning, as harsh sunlight hit him in the face, he was awoken the rest of the way by the cry of, “Oh my stars! It looks like a bordello in here!”

They probably should have cleaned up their clothes before heading to bed. Oh well. Too late now.

**Author's Note:**

> Come be my brah on [Tumblr](http://secretgeniushittyknight.tumblr.com)  


End file.
